The Shadow-gloom and Weight of the Sacred

Credit: Christina L.F.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/xanetia/
CC BY-SA 2.0

I suppose that most parents carry with them the concern or fear that they are going to let their kids down. I really want to raise my daughter to work hard in school and I want her to learn and grow. I want to raise her to enjoy and appreciate life and play a part in serving others. These things, though, are really things I want of myself. I want to make this type of life available for her. And, sometimes I'm scared that she will be let down. I feel that I'm a good father, but sometimes I'm worried that won't be enough. I'm scared that one day she'll resent being adopted and she won't want me to be her dad. My thoughts are probably shaped more by American sitcoms than any real experience with families of adoption--that's sad, I know. It's not a thought that constantly haunts me, but I do think about it every now and again.

On Saturday the Queen Bee was climbing on the Rubbermaid container in which we store the dog's food. Gretchen and I have told her many times not to climb on the dog food container because she could fall and hurt herself, but she still wants to climb up on it. I told her to get down off the container and instead of climb down like she usually does, she tried stepping off. She slipped. Her back landed squarely on the container and then she pummeled to the floor. I picked up her little crying self and held her against me, trying to comfort her. I couldn't bring her comfort, though. I started to talk in her ear about how much I loved her, hoping that this would sooth her. And then I stopped. It just hit me hard (emotionally) how much this felt like that plane ride back to the States when she was so scared and hysterical that she only slept for (maybe) 60 mins on an 18 hour flight. On that plane, I held her just as I did last Saturday, walking up and down the aisles singing in her ear, hoping it would help (it didn't).

I began to talk to the Queen Bee about how scared she was on that airplane and how scared I was on that airplane. I told her about all the songs I sang in her ear and how bad I felt for her, that she was so scared. I told her that I thought she felt all alone, but she really wasn't all alone because I was there with her. Her mommy was there with her.

By now, she had stopped crying from her fall off the dog food container, but I was becoming pretty emotional and the weight of being a father to such a marvelous little girl laid itself upon me. I said, "I'm so scared that I'm going to disappoint you." And, before I could say anything else, the Queen Bee lifted her head off my shoulder and gave me a big kiss right on the lips...and I was silent.

She'd surprised me like that before.

I don't know that she understood a word of what I was saying. Maybe she just picked up on my emotional tone and decided I needed a kiss. But those things don't matter. I got just what I needed: silence.

I gave her a big hug, sat her down and the ground, and she went about her morning playing. I just sat down and kept my silence...with a really big smile.